I am Hetalia
by Chikouu
Summary: "You are Hetalia." She sang as her father fell asleep, never to wake up again.    A HetaOni one-shot. Rated for Character Death, blood and hinting on MPREG.


**Hello and welcome to this new fan-fic of mine. So, this is based on the fan-game HetaOni. If you haven't seen it yet, look it up on Youtube. Just type in Hetaoni part 1 eng sub and click on the first link. To see the subs, just click in the CC box and it should come up. It's amazing!**

**You have no idea how much I cried writing this! QAQ *sniff* I killed nearly all of my favorite characters D:**

**And you who have read my other fan-fic, "The Adventure of Naruto the Vulpix" fear not. I will continue it soon I hope. But at the moment, I have writers block...**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>I am Hetalia<strong>

"_Draw a circle, that's the earth..." A shaky voice sang. The big mansion was dark and quiet._

"_Draw a circle, that's the earth..." France was lying in one of the corridors. He was covered with gruesome claw marks. Prussia sat propped up against a wall in the same hallway. The albino was also covered in wounds. Only the blonde was breathing, if only slightly. That would stop soon._

"_Draw a circle that's the earth..." America laid in the library. He was covered of books and a bookcase, but unmistakeably dead. A fatal blow to the back of his head had been the end of the man claiming to be everyone's hero. China and Japan was in the kitchen. The older Chinese one was hugging a younger Japanese male that had his chest cut open by claws. China was sitting against the wall, a sad smile and tear marks was visible on his pale and lifeless face. You could see his dull eyes._

"_I am Hetalia." Germany, Canada and Spain laid in one of the many bedrooms. All three was soaked in blood, covering their pale visages._

"_Ah, a fabulous world..." The voice was coming from the only safe place in the mansion. Veneziano sat crying with his face buried in his hands and his elbows rested on his knees. Romano laid in the bed before him, taking shallow breaths. Russia laid a few beds away, the slightly blood stained sheets was covering his head. England laid en the bed beside Romano. His unseeing eyes stared up at the ceiling as he grieved the loss of his family and friends. _

"_The book was destroyed..." England mumbled "Damn!" He could feel his consciousness slipping. They both knew that if England fell asleep, he would not wake up again. _

"_I'm sorry, Feli..." England managed to say before his eyes closed. Veneziano cried louder._

"_That can be seen with the swipe of a paintbrush..." He continued to sing. He had messed up again. But this time, it was worse that ever. The Tony-look-alike, Steve they called him, had gotten to the journal and destroyed it. Everyone had died, and England had not enough magic to turn back the time anymore. He felt was useless. Couldn't do anything right. Now, it was only he and his beloved older brother left. But Veneziano knew that Romano had little time left._

"_Let's have a toast with our boots..." Veneziano didn't even need to look up when he heard the footsteps to know who it was. _He _was here. The footsteps stopped right behind him just as Romano let out his last breath. Now, he truly was the only one left. Veneziano stood up and transparent arms hugged him. He turned around to cry into the transparent, but oddly compact chest of a grownup Holy Roman Empire. Holy Rome stroke the back of his head and let him cry._

"_Hetalia." Veneziano finished._

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><p>A woman smiled at her children as she closed the book. "HetaOni" was the title and the writers name was "Vargas".<p>

"And that, was how the world lost some of the nations personifications." The woman had short, dark brown hair and a curl on the left side of her head. Her eyes where grayish blue and she was wearing a simple red tank top with blue jeans. Her two sons, Lovino and Feliciano, looked up at her with their tear filled, honey-brown eyes. The only real difference between the two twins was that Lovino, the older, had dark brown hair and a curl on the right side, while Feliciano had lighter brown hair and the curl on the left side.

"But mommy" Feliciano said " what happened to the last of them?" The innocence on his face mad his mother smile.

"Nobody knows, Feli." She answered "Maybe he got out, or maybe he's still in the mansion, grieving the loss of his loved ones together with Holy Rome. But lets hope that he got out and is living a happy life, okay?" Feliciano nodded and the woman kissed her childrens forehead.

"Now, it's time for bed. Goodnight." She said and smiled at the twins as they closed their eyes.

"'Night, mommy." They said in unison as she blew out a candle she used. The woman got up and walked quietly over to the door and closed it after her. As she walked down the hallway, she heard a slow and sad humming from one of the doors.

"Draw a circle, that's the earth." Came a sleepy voice from the other side. The woman opened the door and slipped inside.

"Draw a circle, that's the earth." A man lied in the bed inside. He looked identical to the woman's child, Feliciano. The only real difference was that he was much older. There was a picture on the nightstand the the left of the bed. It featured the man and a blond man. The brunette smiled happily at the camera while he clung to the blondes arm. The blonde blushed and looked awkwardly to the side.

"Draw a c... ircle... that's... the... ea... r... th..." The woman looked sadly down at her father who was just about to fall into a deep sleep. She knew that he would not wake up this time. Tears formed in her eyes as she finished his song.

"You are Hetalia" The tears fell and she kissed his forehead as the personification of North Italy, Veneziano, also known as Feliciano Vargas, the writer of the book "HetaOni", fell asleep and his heart stopped beating.

"Hey, father? Where you happy? Dad would have wanted you to be. I'm sure of it..." She said as she broke down crying, down on her knees and rested her forehead on her arm that where folded on the edge of Venezianos bed. She could feel the consciousnesses of the people of Italy and Germany, and the very land, connect with hers. She, Stella Vargas, was now the personification of New Italy-Germany.

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><p><strong>So, love it? Hate it? Should I continue it? Tell me in a review ;)<strong>


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